The Witness (44 page)

Read The Witness Online

Authors: Sandra Brown

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #Thrillers

 

Kevin squirmed against her. "Not everyone," she whispered. She kissed his head, then moved purposefully toward the door. She had just raised her hand to it when the overhead light came on.

 

She spun around, but, blinded by the sudden brightness, she could only make out the silhouette of a man bearing down on her and Kevin.

 

Chapter 37

 

The Crook twins were in the motel bathroom, holding a little conference about their dilemma. They needed to ply the fat redhead with enough liquor to loosen her tongue without letting her drink herself unconscious.

 

"Hey, boys," she called from the bed in a high, singsong voice. "Whach'y'all doin' in there, huh?"

 

"I don't think I can get it up again." Luther gazed forlornly at his flaccid penis. "I ain't never seen a woman who could take so much. You figure she's a freak of nature or somethin'?"

 

"Stop whining. We gotta get her to talking about Kendall."

 

Luther massaged his testicles with a sympathetic hand.

 

"How do you plan on doing that, Henry? She's already polished off nearly a whole bottle of Jack Daniels, and it ain't fazed her, 'cept to make her hornier."

 

Henry mulled it over. Ricki Sue summoned them again from the bedroom. "We'd better be gettin' back to her before she gets suspicious. I'll think of something. Whatever I say, just play along."

 

Ricki Sue was still sprawled across the bed. She was pouting.

 

"I was beginnin' to think y'all were partyin' without me."

 

Henry noticed that her speech was more slurred than before.

 

He gave Luther a surreptitious thumbs-up as he stretched out beside Ricki Sue. "New. We couldn't have no fun without our party girl, could we, Luther?"

 

"No sir. No fun at all. In fact, I believe it's time for another round of drinks."

 

He pretended to take a long swallow from the bottle before passing it to Ricki Sue. She divided a suspicious look between them. "Are you boys tryin' to get me drunk, or what?"

 

Before either could answer, she belted out a gutsy laugh and raised the bottle to her mouth. Henry winked at his brother across the mound of pale, freckled, female flesh.

 

"Swear to God, Ricki Sue, you're a drinker like nobody I've ever seen. Right, Luther?"

 

"Right."

 

"In fact, you impress me on all counts. For instance, the way you outsmarted those feds. Now that was something to see. Serves 'em right, too, for butting in to everybody's bitness the way they do."

 

She snorted with contempt. "That Pepperdyne thinks his shit don't stink. 'You know where Mrs. Burnwood is,'

 

he says. You know this, you know that," she mimicked.

 

"How does he know what I know, when only I know what I know?"

 

"Yeah," Luther said. "Where does he get off asking you personal questions about your best friend?"

 

Henry shot his brother a venomous look. Why couldn't Luther just keep his mouth shut? Mama was right. This twin was so ignorant, he was dangerous. With that single comment, he could have tipped off Ricki Sue that they weren't after her strictly for fun and games.

 

But she was too far gone to notice Luther's giveaway. "I wanna protect Kendall,"- she said sobbing. "She's my friend. Wouldn't tell Pepperdyne where she was, even if I knew, which I don't."

 

She took another drink and almost strangled on it when she began to laugh. Raising her finger to make her point, she said, "But I have a pretty good i-dea." She separated the syllables, pronouncing each one distinctly.

 

"Aw, you don't have to bluff us, Ricki Sue. We aren't laws, are we, Luther?"

 

"Hell no."

 

Henry began smooching her neck. "Forget that Pepperdyne character. Let's get back to partying."

 

Ricki Sue pushed him away. "I wasn't bluffin'.. I do know where she might be at. I'm the only one in the whole world who knows."

 

"Sure, sure, honey. We believe you. Don't we, Luther?"

 

He winked at his brother conspiratorially, but Luther wasn't following. The reverse psychology was lost on him.

 

"Uh . . . oh, yeah. That's right. What Henry said."

 

"It's the truth," Ricki Sue murmured as she made an effort to sit up. "I bet she's at the place where she used to go in the summers with her grandma."

 

"Okay, baby, okay." Henry gave her thigh a patronizing pat. "If you say so."

 

She thumped the mattress with her fist. "I know where she is. Well, not 'exactly. But it's somewhere near Morton. And there's a . . ."

 

"A what?"

 

"A waterfall."

 

"Waterfall?"

 

She tilted her head to a condescending angle and looked down her nose at Henry. "Isn't that what I just said?"

 

"Sure, honey. Didn't mean to make you mad."

 

"And there's a . . . big gun. Whaddaya call it? On wheels.

 

They used 'em in old-timey days."

 

"A cannon?"

 

She dug the nail of her index finger into Henry's chest.

 

"The's right! You win! You get first prize!" She spread her arms away from her body, offering it as the trophy. Then her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fell back on the bed, unconscious.

 

"Hot damn!" Henry cried. "It worked. We'll drive to Morton."

 

"Where's that?"

 

"Don't know. But it's gotta be on a map. Hurry up, Luther, get dressed."

 

"What about her?"

 

"You know what Mama said."

 

Gazing down at Ricki Sue, Luther smacked his lips with regret. "It's a damn shame, having to destroy such a novelty.

 

I ain't never had snatch that fiery red before."

 

"Excuse me?" Teeth grinding, Pepperdyne clutched the telephone receiver so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

 

"Would you kindly repeat what you just said?"

 

"We, oh, lost her, sir. She went into this bar, a dive, really.

 

She was sitting by herself in a booth, knocking back whiskeys like a seasoned drinker."

 

"Get on with it."

 

"Yes, sir. This guy"

 

"What guy?"

 

"Some guy. A tall, lanky man with straw-colored hair and weird-looking eyes. He joins her in the booth. He buys her a drink. They sit and chat."

 

"Did you ask anyone this man's name?"

 

"Of course, sir. Nobody in the place knew him."

 

"Car?"

 

"W e asked about that, too. Nobody remembered seeing him and his brother arrive, so we couldn't get a make on the car."

 

"Did you say 'brother'? He had a brother?"

 

"Yes, sir. A twin."

 

"Christ."

 

Pepperdyne tossed two aspirins into his mouth and washed them down with a swig of Maalox. Why must everything be so goddamn complicated? Not just a brother, which would have been difficult enough. But twins.

 

"Identical twins?"

 

"That's what we were told. That you couldn't tell one from the other."

 

"Naturally."

 

"We never saw the second one. He stayed in the billiards room in the back." The agent explained how Ricki Sue and her companions had given them the slip.

 

"How'd he pay for the drinks?"

 

"Cash."

 

"I figured as much," Pepperdyne muttered. "And no one there knew who these men were?"

 

"No, sir. No name. Nothing. Apparently they weren't locals."

 

Pepperdyne's subordinate paused, as though bracing for the dressing-down he knew was coming. When his boss said nothing, he offered an opinion: "What I think, sir, is that she met up with these guys and left with them."

 

"That's apparent, isn't it?"

 

"What I mean, sir, is that I don't think the twins are connected to the break-in this afternoon. They sure as hell weren't Matt and Gibb Burnwood. It looked like a random pickup to me. Witnesses said that Miss Robb got real chummy with these guys real fast, know what I mean?

 

"In fact, one of them volunteered to give us the lowdown on her. He said and several others corroborated that she's a well-known swinger. Hot to trot. It isn't unusual for her to leave a bar with a stranger, he said."

 

Pepperdyne's temper snapped. "Listen to me. I don't give a rat's ass if Miss Robb screws a hundred men at high noon in the town square every Saturday. She's a citizen, and even if she is withholding valuable information from us, it's our duty to protect her.

 

"You were ordered not to let her out of your sight, and you fucked up. So now she's missing. We don't know who she's with, or where she is, and there are two maniacs who think they're God's right-hand men out assassinating anybody who crosses them, and that includes Miss Robb because it's her best friend and confidante that they're ultimately after!" He stopped shouting and paused for breath. His softer voice conveyed even more of a threat. "Am I getting through to you?"

 

"Yes, sir. I think so, sir."

 

"Just so there's no misunderstanding, let me spell it out for you. If anything bad happens to Ricki Sue Robb, I'm gonna nail your balls to the floor, then set it on fire."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Get on it."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Pepperdyne slammed down the receiver. He dispatched more men to the tavern to try to pick up the trail of the unidentified twins. He gave them a thumbnail description.

 

"Tall, lanky, straw-colored hair. Something weird about their eyes. They're identical. The woman is a plump redhead. No body who's seen her could possibly forget her, so talk to everybody."

 

Pepperdyne sipped from the bottle of Maalox as he paced the office, thinking. Was it a coincidence that on the day Ricki Sue's house was ransacked by the Burnwoods, she was picked up in a honky-tonk by nameless twins?

 

How could the two incidents be related? Were these twins members of the Brotherhood, the Burnwoods' lieutenants carrying out orders? Or was it as the agent had speculated: One event had no bearing on the other?

 

Pepperdyne's gut instinct told him to assume the worst. If these twins were in cahoots with the Burnwoods or otherwise connected to the case, he now had four lives to worry about:

 

John; Mrs. Burnwood and her baby; and Ricki Sue Robb.

 

If the Burnwoods located any of them before his men did . . .

 

He couldn't let that happen. It was as simple as than Getting Ricki Sue from the motel bed to the Camaro was no easy feat, but they managed to do it without rousing her. They weren't as lucky when they tried hauling her out of the car.

 

The moment she came to, she began struggling to be re leased. "Hey, what's going on?" she asked querulously, trying to get her bearings. The car was parked on the edge of a ditch beside a dark, narrow road. "Where the hell are we? What are we doing out here? Where're my clothes?"

 

Luther's answer to her question was his standard slack-jawed stare.

 

Henry said, "We, uh, thought you might want to go swim. ., swimming.

 

Luther gaped at his brother, then turned to Ricki Sue, bobbing his head eagerly. "Skinny-dipping, ya know?"

 

"Swimming?" She gave the surroundings an apprehensive glance. "We're out in the middle of nowhere, aren't we?"

 

"We know where we're at," Henry boasted. "Me and Luther were here earlier today. There's a pretty little stream 'bout fifty yards there through the woods."

 

Ricki Sue followed his pointing finger, but wasn't heartened by what she saw, which was a deep, dark, scary-looking forest.

 

Traipsing around buck naked through the woods in the middle of the night wasn't her idea of a good time. She was all for adventure, but she preferred to conduct her escapades in places that had walls and ceilings.

 

She had never liked the great outdoors. The sun was a curse to her fair skin, which either freckled or blistered. She was allergic to poison ivy and mosquito bites, which resulted in ugly red bumps that usually festered and had to be treated with antibiotics. - On the other hand, she had developed a real lust for the twins' lean, rangy bodies. Being sandwiched between them had been a turn-on to end all turn-one. Naked, under water, they would be as sleek as eels, sliding up against full curves.

 

She shivered with anticipation. "Lead the way."

 

"Let's play Indian and go single file," Henry suggested.

 

"Luther, you lead. I'll bring up the rear," he said, sliding his hands beneath her bare buttocks and giving each cheek a squeeze.

 

Ricki Sue squealed in delight and took her place between them. Henry crowded up behind her. She hugged Luther around the waist as they marched through the forest.

 

When they reached the creek and she heard the gently flowing water, she sighed. "This is gonna be so romantic. Or am I just drunk?"

 

Henry had had the foresight to bring along a fresh bottle.

 

"You're not drunk. After that hike, I figure we could all use another drink."

 

The bottle went around once, each of them taking a drink.

 

But the liquor seemed to have little effect on the twins' jitters.

 

Ricki Sue began noticing that they seemed nervous, especially when she took each of them by the hand and pulled them toward the creek.

 

"What's the matter, boys? Having second thoughts? Think I'm too much woman to handle, even for both of you?"

 

"We, uh, we had a baby brother who drowned," Henry blurted. "We were just kids, but we remember it. So we're neither one crazy for the water."

 

If her head had been clearer, she would have wondered why they had suggested an orgy in the first place if they had an aversion to it. Instead, she reacted with compassion. "Oh, you poor babies. Come to Ricki Sue."

 

Henry had stumbled upon Ricki Sue's dearest desire, which she kept a secret, chiefly because the chances of its ever being fulfilled were nil. She longed to nurture, to be a source of comfort and solace, to a husband, a child, or even to a parent who regarded her with pride rather than scorn. She had a huge capacity for love, but her love had never been asked for. A surplus of it was stored in her heart.

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